


the act of making noise

by Oggser



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Feelings Realization, Figueroth Faeth's Series of Romantic War Crimes, Getting Together, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Napping, Not Actually Unrequited Love, also there are like TECHNICALLY ocs here but like, and one of them is jem peppercorn, ayda gorgug zelda kristen and tracker all get lines, because there werent enough canonical bloodrush players for a scene i wanted to do, but theyre not important so im not tagging them, but this takes place post-spring break so hes at least AWARE that hes repressed and oblivious, fabian is repressed and oblivious, fig is much more important in the second chapter, rated teen because fabian is a hormonal teenager, riz knows more about fabian than fabian knows about fabian, the triumphs and defeats the epic highs and lows of high school bloodrush, they have one line each
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25255984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oggser/pseuds/Oggser
Summary: “I just don’t get why you’re asking me to do this.” Fabian says as he closes the door to his locker.The Ball (whose real name is probably Riz,) takes a deep breath and puts his hand to his forehead, pushing some of the dark hair that usually covers it out of the way. If Fabian’s nigh-encyclopedic knowledge about The Ball is anything to go off of, what Fabian just said was probably tiring to him on a level he could never hope to understand. The Ball tries his hardest not to be rude, but he’s genuinely very easy to annoy.“Fabian, buddy,” The Ball starts, “Have you… seriously not noticed?”or: Fabian talks to Ragh about his feelings regarding a game the Owlbears lost, and gets caught in a web of feelings he probably spun himself.
Relationships: Ragh Barkrock/Fabian Aramais Seacaster
Comments: 31
Kudos: 101





	1. no seriously why is this my job

**Author's Note:**

> title is from hozier's "to noise making (sing)" specifically because i saw a lot of other d20 fics had titles from that exact same song and i thought itd be funny. also this used be called "your awful heart to song" but it didnt fit so i changed it

So the Owlbears lost.

It was a shock to everyone on the team (Fabian included), largely because this has never happened without extraneous circumstances before. Mumple had finally gotten the budget to have their own bloodrush team, and as it turns out, _they’re pretty good._ Good enough to knock Aguefort down a peg, even. 

Maybe not their _entire_ team was super great, their real edge was in the form of a few _incredibly_ good players that made every other player into an extreme threat. Combining that with the fact that Aguefort really didn’t expect Mumple to be any good, the outcome of the match was practically determined from the start.

It was an extremely disappointing loss, Fabian would concede to that. 

But still.

“I just don’t get why you’re asking _me_ to do this.” Fabian says as he closes the door to his locker.

The Ball (whose real name is probably Riz,) takes a deep breath and puts his hand to his forehead, pushing some of the dark hair that usually covers it out of the way. If Fabian’s nigh-encyclopedic knowledge about The Ball is anything to go off of, what Fabian just said was probably tiring to him on a level he could never hope to understand. The Ball tries his hardest not to be rude, but he’s genuinely very easy to annoy.

“Fabian, buddy,” The Ball starts, “Have you… seriously not noticed?”

“Noticed what?” He replies on reflex.

“Ragh’s _really_ not taking this well, and I know you’re not very…people smart, but I figured you’d at least notice something’s up?”

“What? What are you _talking_ about?” Fabian says, characteristically dramatic, “He’s sad about losing the game! You’re a detective, The Ball, I thought you’d have that one in the bag!”

“It’s… it’s been a week, and he’s still _really_ torn up about it. And even if it hadn’t, I’d still feel like you should at least try to talk to him about it.”

That’s true. The other Owlbears (Fabian included) have at least moved on _somewhat,_ but the same can’t be said for Ragh. Fabian had started to notice a little while ago, at least, but for some reason he hadn’t done anything about it. Once again, the Ball makes a good point that would be incredibly sketchy to avoid. 

“Still, do you really think _I_ would be the best man for the job?” Fabian makes a gesture to himself, all fingers sans thumbs on his chest.

“Like, yes, I know I had that whole character arc with the Elven sheet and the _I believe in you spring break_ and showing my _rippling abs_ to the general public, but I’m-- I’m not a… personal people-person, The Ball! I’m, frankly, _much_ better at talking to groups of people than anything else. That’s why I’m such an _excellent_ captain.” Fabian smirks and thinks about how cool he looks giving his dramatic speeches before particularly big games (which are never quite as inspiring as Kristen’s for some reason).

He shrugs his letterman jacket on and lets out a breath, “Honestly, I think you should ask Gorgug. He’s, uh…” Fabian searches for the words. 

“He’s a sweet-pea. A real swell guy. Like a big lanky poodle. And he knows how Ragh thinks-- did I tell you, when we were recruiting him for the spring break project, Gorgug said to him, ‘It’s okay to think you’re your own dad,’ and then they both just started bawling?”

The Ball blanches. “Yeah. You have. Multiple times.”

“It was just so-- it was stupid! It was really, really stupid, and that’s, uh, that’s why I told you so much! Because it was stupid!”

“Mhm.” The Ball nods, but the expression on his face says something between ‘I know something you don’t’ and ‘I honestly did not expect better and yet I’m still disappointed.’

The Ball sighs and starts walking, making a gesture for Fabian to follow.

“Okay, I understand how Gorgug _might_ seem like a better option, but I… honestly don’t think his brand of comfort would get to Ragh this time, and you honestly _severely_ underestimate your influence on Ragh. When you say _jump_ , he says--”

“ _Please_. I’m _aware._ But I still don’t--”

“How high.”

Fabian blinks at him, “What? What are you talking about? I'm not _high,_ why would I be high?”

The Ball stops walking in the middle of the staircase specifically to stare at Fabian like he’s the stupidest person in the world. It doesn’t work too well, since he cracks a smile and starts giggling.

“Fabian buddy, that’s the saying, the-- it ends with “how high,” man.” He snorts a little.

Fabian clears his throat. 

“... Ah.”

_____________________

Fabian, though he remains unconvinced, eventually concedes, and when he and The Ball part ways, he takes the Hangman to the mansion where Ragh (and around two thirds of Fabian’s general friend group) live. A creepy, massive mansion that they can only afford because of how haunted it is.

Knocking on the front door is strangely anxiety-inducing, which is especially strange since Fabian is rarely anxious about anything, ever, and he proves this by proudly knocking on the front door to Mordred Manor.

He barely even has time to adjust his jacket before Fig opens it and greets him. She mentions something about him leaving his shampoo, (which only happened _once,_ because he has a _very_ specific hair-care routine and _a lot of money,)_ but more importantly that Ragh is in fact here, and then she buries herself in her phone, which Fabian takes as his cue to go to Ragh’s room.

Before he knocks, Fabian has another uncharacteristic burst of anxiety.

Obviously, Fabian isn’t as terrifically perfect as he appears, and he had the better portion of his spring break to accept that and learn to live with it. And for the most part, he has. He’s his own man, and in being that, he has his own issues to deal with. 

Right now, that issue is that he’s absolutely going to make this situation worse. For Ragh.

“Yo, _Fabian_ my man, what’s good?”

Fabian Seacaster generally does not believe in karma. His father has committed what many would describe as “atrocities,” and now he’s ruling hell riding on a dragon. If karma exists, then William Seacaster is an outlier.

Fabian is not his father, and this becomes more apparent by the day, because looking at Ragh in his undies is making him feel the envy of every man who’s ever seen Fabian without his shirt off.

(Envy? Envy, yeah. Envy.)

In his own words, Ragh has trouble getting cut. Like most half-orcs, Ragh’s body is very clearly built more for throwing fully grown men with one hand than being slim or graceful. He’s tall, at least two inches taller than Fabian and probably twice as wide, with a soft gut and thighs that are most-likely bigger around than Fig’s entire body. His chest is thick with bulk like the rest of his body and though Fabian has never wanted to be anything but lean muscle the sinking feeling in his heart and stomach have him making second guesses.

“Oh Jesus _Christ_ Ragh it’s four pm, put a shirt on.” 

Ragh mumbles a “Sorry, sorry,” and leans down to pick up a t-shirt he left on the ground, revealing to Fabian that he most _definitely_ does a _lot_ of squats and gives him another pang of what-is-definitely-envy. Fabian huffs a breath through his nose.

“I.. Sorry, sorry, that was… snippy. I don’t actually _care_ , I’m just kind of in a… I dunno, a weird mood?” Is what Fabian says, which is not technically a lie.

Ragh nods, “Yeah, ‘sfine dude, I feel that. Shit kinda sucks right now, so I don’t blame you.”

Okay, moment of truth, “That’s actually what I’m here to talk about.”

“... I… I’m sorry. I know it was my bad, but-- but I promise I’ll do better next time, okay? They fuckin’ took me out, dude, but next time? Next time I’ll do good, and it’ll be their fuckin’ _ass,_ so just-- _please_ don’t kick me off the team dude.”

There’s an honest, almost choked tone to his words that makes Fabian do a double take.

“Okay, this?” He states, gesturing to Ragh, “ _This_ is what we’re going to talk about.”

Ragh sits on his bed and rolls into a lying position. Fabian walks into the room, decorated with posters of burly bloodrush men and colorful flags (sometimes both), and closes the door behind him.

“So… I’m going to preface this by telling you that this was The Ball’s idea so you don’t think I’ve been abducted by changelings or _whatever_ , but… I want to talk about feelings. Regarding the game, obviously.” He adds the last word on in a quiet breath.

There’s a long stretch of silence.

“You wanna talk about feelings?”

“I know. And I know I said it was The Ball’s idea but I, uh…” He huffs, “I’ve also been kind of worried about you.” He’s been worried for a while, but he’ll just leave that part out.

Ragh twists his mouth and shrugs for a second. “Well I feel… _bad._ Obviously.

“Yes, so I’ve heard. Honestly, I still feel a little bad about it too? That was one of the first losses we’ve had since _I_ joined the team.”

“Yeah, right? Like, we try really hard, and we just wanna have fun, and stuff, and fuckin’ _Mumple_ comes around and they ruin it for everyone cause they don’t give a shit about the game, they just wanna win… a-and I _guess_ I get that? But they’re so fuckin’... _mean._ Those really talented ones? They’re just so fucking mean, dude! You can really just… _tell_ that they’ve got _no_ heart! And for real this time! Not like you! And it’s so… they’re just gonna keep winning like this, and it’s… it’s just so fucking… _God,_ dude!”

Ragh throws his head into a pillow and lays there for a few seconds. He absently slides a different pillow over his face, not making any sound from underneath, muffled or otherwise.

Fabian steps forward, “You’re… _really_ not doing very well, are you?”

Ragh doesn’t respond, and thanks to some absentminded movements his face is a lot more visible than it was before. He takes a deep breath and glances in another direction.

Fabian starts to maneuver into the space on the bed next to Ragh, “Can I sit here?”

“Yeah, sure.” He mumbles drearily.

Ragh has always had an odd sense of priority. When his coach-mentor-father figure died and Ragh was confronted with his killers, he only threw a punch when he was one, called out for having emotions, and two, sent a message (rightfully) saying that he might be into men. Fabian vaguely remembers this one time before spring break that Kristen said something about Sagittariuses being “kind of annoying” and Ragh sulked about it until he asked Fabian if he thought he was annoying at least three hours later.

And now Fabian is sitting next to him on his bed trying to convey that that’s not a bad thing.

Fabian Aramais Seacaster, trying to be emotionally vulnerable enough to comfort someone.

“Ragh, you…” Fabian starts, as gently as he can, and he’s surprised by how sad his voice sounds coming out of his mouth.

He lets out a breath, “You care about things. A lot.”

“Fuckin’… yeah, I guess.”

“…” Fabian is quiet for a second. “That, uh. That sounds like it’s hard… For you?”

“I… I guess? I just care about stupid shit, dude. And it’s just as annoying to me as it is to like, _everyone_ else. “

“Ragh, it’s not bad to care about things,” Fabian rests his hand on Ragh’s knee. “Before spring break, I… honestly didn’t let myself care about much. Aside from, uh, bloodrush, dueling, money, women, and being _incredibly_ hot. Which in hindsight are basically all things my Papá expected me to care about, and I’m honestly not sure how to feel about that?”

Fabian shrugs, “But, whatever! I _dance_ now, and I’m _great,_ and caring about things is good also!”

Ragh chuckles, still vacant, but less so. “Your dances do slap pretty hard, dude.”

“Yeah, obviously but that’s not my point-- my point is! That… caring about things is good. And when you care about something, and something bad happens to it, you’re going to be sad, but being sad is… good… because that means you care about it…?”

“… Dude, you should like, write a book or something man. That’s like… deep.” Ragh shifts his pillow so that his shoulders prop it up, letting him look at Fabian easier.

He starts, “My mom used to tell me that… because we’re like, _tied to Gruumsh_ or whatever, half-orcs have like… big, _big_ feelings, dude. We feel shit like, _hard_ , and we feel it a lot, and that’s just like… the way it is for us, and that I should be proud of it, ‘cause it’s like, proof of our heritage or something. You ever get somethin’ like that?”

Fabian nods, so Ragh continues. “It’s just… I dunno. I have all the… _big feelings,_ I guess, but it’s really hard to like, _deal_ with them, dude. And being open emotionally is kinda hard when the only thing I know I’m feeling is just… a lot.”

Ragh places his hands on his chest and looks up at the ceiling of his room. “And I kinda wish I had feelings about stuff that’s cool-- like how you’re really good at dancing now, and it’s like really pretty to watch, and most of what I care about is just… Bloodrush.”

“Hey, don’t say that!” Fabian raises his voice, “and I don’t mean that in a sweet way either, I mean it fucking _manly_ and _hard!_ ”

Fabian adjusts himself to completely face Ragh, cross-legged and leaning forward at the foot of his bed. “Ragh, you are _my guy._ You’re my _dude._ You’re _built_ for bloodrush! If you told me you were a gay celestial construct sent from the upper plains to be good at bloodrush, I’d be-- I’d say, like, ‘Yeah, that makes sense’, because it… it would! It’d make sense! Because you’re good at bloodrush! You’ve got the _perfect_ body for it!” 

Fabian gestures to the body Ragh’s occupying, big and beefy. Very large. Fabian feels some envy in his chest and his waist, which isn’t typically where envy sits, but he won’t question it, there are more pressing matters at hand.

“And bloodrush is cool, and dancing is cool, and whatever else you decide to care about will probably be cool too, because the Fantasy Care Bears were right, and caring is _cool._ ”

Ragh just stares at him for a long, long moment, awestruck.

“Dude… do you-- do you really mean that?”

Fabian doesn’t know what part of his rant Ragh is talking about, but the answer would be the same no matter what,

“Of course.”

Ragh looks almost awestruck for a moment, and then he smiles.

“I… I was honestly really worried.”

Fabian is quiet for a few seconds before he softly asks, “What for?”

“I dunno, I just, like… I thought you’d be mad at me or something, dude. Because like, you took it _really fuckin’ good,_ and I just fuckin’... didn’t, dude. And I know you get mad at stuff sometimes, so I was just… I was really, really worried.”

For some impossible-to-decipher reason, Fabian’s heart speeds up. “Ragh, you are… very hard to be mad at. And you’re also very easy to… like. You’re very easy to like.”

Ragh blinks, and he opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Fabian gets an incredible, selfless idea.

“Cathilda told me once that, uh,” For some reason Fabian is having trouble getting the words out of his mouth. He clears his throat, “When you hate everyone, you need to eat, but when you think everyone hates _you,_ you need to sleep. So… how about we take a nap?”

Ragh sits up stares at Fabian like he has two heads.

Fabian makes a defensive one-handed gesture, “Obviously you don’t _have_ to I was just saying that it’d probably be a good idea to take a nap if you’re not _feeling_ well so--”

“Dude… What’d you mean by ‘we’?”

Fabian’s mouth goes inward for a second. “Well… I’d-- I’d feel pretty bad just leaving you here alone, especially since you’re in such a state, that’s not what a captain does! Captains look out for their crew, and sometimes that means taking a nap with one of them.” And maybe slowly rubbing his back, watching his resting, contented face fall into sleep, drinking in the warmth of his body,

“You know.” Fabian says, “Bro stuff.”

“Uh, dude,” Ragh mumbles, “You… you know that I’m, like… _gay,_ right? Like, you wouldn’t be, like, uncomfortable with doin’ that, cuz… that?”

Fabian has been thinking quite a lot about that. Maybe not _actively_ but in his subconscious, he had definitely been considering Ragh’s sexuality. He doesn’t know what he was considering it _for,_ but he knows that he was (and still is) considering.

However. For some reason, this still surprises him.

“I don’t-- I’m not a _homophobe,_ Ragh! If you’re into me, it’s _my_ fault for being so _hot,_ okay, _everyone’s_ into me, at least a little! If you weren’t I’d honestly be surprised, considering you have…” Fabian finds the word, “ _Taste!_ ” 

Ragh almost snorts at that, and Fabian is reminded that Ragh’s first crush tried to murder him and his friends and hell and his only other romantic encounter after that betrayed all of them and was also sort of-kind of-really-pretty racist and fetishy about Ragh being a Half-Orc, and Fabian realizes that maybe “taste” is not something that Ragh currently has in regards to men, but Fabian is confident that it’s something he’ll develop.

Fabian shrugs off his jacket, folds it, and places it on top of a wardrobe. He turns off the light (which doesn’t do much considering it’s four in the afternoon) and sits back on Ragh’s bed. 

Ragh gives him a look and Fabian says “I’m not taking a nap on the _floor,_ Ragh.”

“But you’re gonna take a nap next to me.”

“Sailors do this all the time. It’s… it’s like a bonding activity. Like soldiers watching each other piss, or something.”

He smiles, “Well if that’s the other option, I’m glad this is what we’re goin’ for.”

Fabian lays down next to Ragh on his bed, and he feels a rush similar to when his team gets the upper hand in a Bloodrush game, or when he lands a blow on an enemy that turns the tables in his favor. He knows this presence in his chest as the feeling he gets when he overcomes an obstacle. And this almost worries him, oddly enough.

Obviously, neither of them fall asleep immediately. The beginning stages of the “nap” are basically just Fabian and Ragh screwing around on their crystals and chatting idly, and as a distraction, it works wonders. The actual nap is enlightening, to say the least.

“Dude, I think I’m actually getting kinda sleepy.”

Fabian smiles, “So you admit the sailors were right. Cathilda too.”

Ragh waves Fabian’s words away and turns tosses towards the wall, chuckling, “Shut uuup.”

Fabian isn’t actually tired. He sends a message to Lydia on his crystal telling her that her son’s taking a nap and then lays there, appreciating the quiet and scrolling through some social media on his crystal.

Stealing a quick glance at Ragh twenty-or-so minutes later, Fabian realizes that he’s already almost asleep. He’s reminded of how quickly the school bully in Ragh’s place last year threw himself in the shower every time Coach Daybreak said his line. Fabian’s eyes trace Ragh’s back, taking a moment to realize just how broad it is, and how it moves with every quiet breath.

He turns on his side subconsciously, just staring. Ragh carries such a natural and intimidating strength in his appearance that every time Fabian learns more about what a gentle soul he is he’s a little more surprised. He thinks he would be surprised even if he looked different. He’s not used to anyone who’s not in a maid’s outfit being so earnest and kind. So himself.

He feels a kinship with him not unlike brotherhood, but the term ‘brother’ applied to Ragh just feels depressing. 

Maybe the envy he’d been feeling this whole time was something else entirely-- maybe something more akin to admiration.

Admiration isn’t a terrible word for how Fabian feels about Ragh. Ragh, with his gentle words and strong arms, his broad chest and eyes that light up with genuine passion and love for the people around him.

Envy isn’t, though. It’s just what Fabian’s used to. Envy is wanting what someone has. Fabian doesn’t want what Ragh has-- his powerful, practical build or his strong, yet almost soft face. But he does, in a way. He can’t tell if he wants to protect it, or cherish it, or both, neither, more.

Ragh’s sleeping body turns towards Fabian, and now they’re facing each other. Fabian feels like he’s been locked in place by some sort of spell.

The face in front of Fabian’s is something he needs to cherish. Something he needs to protect. It’s the gateway to one of the kindest souls he’s ever had the pleasure of interacting with-- and that gateway is unspeakably nice to look at.

Fabian watches with bated breath as Ragh sleeps. His cheek is smushed against his pillow like a kid passed out on their seatbelt. The tusks in his mouth touch the side of his lip, strong and stable. The air going in and out of his nostrils expands and contracts them with each swell and depression of his stomach. His face, Fabian notices, has patches of unshaved stubble, dark but so thin they seem like reflections of light more than anything. Fabian’s eyes travel up to Ragh’s closed eyes, smaller than his with more pronounced bags, but looking at them he feels the same strange form of admiration that he’s been feeling all day. Everything about him is so serene while he sleeps in the midday light. Every relaxed muscle in his face, or quiet and unrushed breath he takes, every imperfection in his appearance that’s allowed to just be, Fabian feels, is deserved. Because Ragh is his guy. He’s wonderful.

As though trying not to disturb a house at night, Fabian inches closer to Ragh.

He feels Ragh’s breath on his face, and Fabian wants, more than anything, to kiss him.

In terms of surprises, it’s not exactly that surprising to him. It’s not an explosive realization that recontextualizes his entire life. It just makes sense. It fits. He doesn’t want what Ragh _has_ , he just wants _Ragh._ He wants to hold his big, warm hand in Basrar’s over a sundae that he mostly leaves alone, and he wants to be able to call him _his._ And he wants to be Ragh’s.

At this moment Fabian can’t think of anything he wants to do more than nuzzle into his chest and _exist_ there. Warm and safe.

He can’t bring himself to do that, but he curls up a bit-- funnily enough, almost like the curve of a shrimp.

Fabian, as Ragh’s breath touches his forehead, smiles.

Time is frozen as he lays awake, eyes closed.


	2. fig faeths EPIC QUADRUPLE DATE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi! i actually did finish this :) it has a new title now but its done and also more than double the length it was before lmaooo

So it’s two weeks later and sharing a bed has become a normal thing, because of course it has.

Ragh understandably has a lot of anxieties and Fabian cares about him a lot and is also grappling with the realization that the feelings he has for His Guy extend far beyond what one could reasonably call platonic. So of course they’d keep taking naps together, because it’s a solution to both, regardless of whether Ragh knows that or not.

Which is exactly the issue. Ragh doesn’t know that this is a two-way street, and that’s why Fabian’s so conflicted. He pretty much just figured out he’s into men, maybe it’s the-- what’s the term? _‘‘Internalized homophobia?’’_ That sounds like something Kristen would say, so that’s probably it. Whatever it is, he still feels bad about it, like the fact that Fabian would very (very) much like to kiss Ragh on his modest, warm, chapped lips somehow makes the comfort the activity is bringing that big-hearted idiot null-and-void. Which Fabian knows is profoundly stupid, but is it really? Is it?

And Fabian _would_ stop. Like, for real, he would. But Ragh’s face when he sleeps is _incredibly_ precious and ninety-nine percent of the time Ragh’s the one to ask him, so refusing would be incredibly rude!

Ugh. He’s hopeless.

“Fabian? Faaabiaaaan. _Fabian.”_

Oh right he’s at his locker right now and Fig is trying to talk to him, oops. Terrible.

“Sorry I was… I was zoning out, what is it?”

“Okay, so I was thinking that we could like… So you know how people on TV go on double dates all the time and it’s like, super romantic and dramatic and whatever?”

“… Yes?” What the fuck is she talking about.

“So… what I’m thinking… is that we get together for a _quadruple date!”_ Fig shoots a finger gun at Fabian, “Ayda, Kristen and Tracker, and Gorgug and Zelda are all like, _fully_ into it, and you’re the only other Bad Kid who’s dating right now, so… how about it?”

Fabian cocks an eyebrow, “That’s… very sweet of you, Fig, but Aelwyn and I broke up a while ago, you’re going to have to get someone else,” Fabian adjusts the straps of his backpack, “Gilear’s dating my mom. You like him, right? Why not get him in on it?”

Fig squints at him with a quick tilt of her head and Fabian takes this to mean that she wants him to talk more, “Isn’t a triple date already a step up from a double date, why-- why do you need a _second_ extra couple when one extra couple is _absolutely_ good enough!

Then Fig does something very out-of-character for her; she backs off.

“... Yeah, totally.” She says, nodding at her crystal in her hand. Is she texting someone when she’s the one who _initiated_ the conversation?

“Are you even listening to me--”

“Sorry Fabian bud but I’ve gotta go, uh, tend to my crops. I stole a cow and she hungers for wheat. Duty calls, man, seeya!”

Fig gets on her skateboard and rides away, leaving Fabian nothing but dust and an increasing sense that the people around him know something he doesn’t. Since spring break, Fabian has realized that he can be rather oblivious on occasion.

He doesn’t think that makes him dumb or anything, but it’s very hard to know that you’re oblivious, because when you know that you also know that there are things you’re probably missing that are _right_ in front of you and you have no way of knowing them because again, you’re oblivious. It also doesn’t help that he’s quite literally missing an eye so his depth perception is, in generous terms, mediocre.

Basically: there’s probably something that he doesn’t know about going on that he doesn’t have much hope of learning about, but he’s at least glad that he can realize that much.

Shrugging his bag onto his shoulders, he makes his way to the parking lot, where the Hangman will be waiting to take him home.

_____________________

It’s a day or two later and they’re laying in the same bed again. Earlier Ragh had texted and said that he had a bad day and he could “use a bro”, so Fabian being someone who both cares for Ragh’s wellbeing and is incredibly attracted to Ragh, he decided to hang. It’s a bro thing, as far as Fabian’s concerned.

Ragh likes blond skinny people and Fabian, while definitely not bulky, is _very_ muscular, and while his hair is light, he looks nothing like a “blonde.” It’s impossible. Nuh-uh, no way. Considering it would be weird and creepy because of how completely and totally implausible it is.

He’d still like to be close to him.

“You good, dude?”

Fabian turns his attention back to Ragh, “Oh, sure, I’m fine.”

Ragh gives him a look and Fabian groans, because of course _he’d_ figure something out, he’s _Ragh,_ he’s the perfect combination of endearingly ditzy and emotionally intuitive. It’s disgusting how lovely he is.

“Okay _fine,_ I’m not that great. I’ve had… this month hasn’t been great, basically.” Fabian says, and then continues.

“… Well, it’s fine. This month has been fine, it’s just been a lot of, uh…” Realizing so many things about himself and his life that he barely even recognizes the person he was before spring break, pining, teen angst.

“Introspection, so to speak?” He chuckles dryly, “Thinking about the implications of what I do or _feel_ or whatever is… incredibly tiring. Don’t recommend it, honestly.”

Ragh laughs, “Aw, same here dude. The back half of junior year was prolly… the hardest my life’s ever been, honestly.” He says, looking down and licking his lips absently, and Fabian is immediately worried.

But then he cracks a smile, “And like, _not_ because you guys killed me. I should honestly thank y’all for that.”

_“Oh my God I forgot we did that.”_

“You too?”

“I know, it’s--” He blinks. “Ragh what the _fuck_ do you mean by that.”

“I-I dunno dude, I just kinda… forget you guys killed me one time? You weren’t like, mean about it. So I forgot.” He shrugs.

There are so many butterflies in Fabian’s stomach that he is genuinely disappointed in himself. “… You aren’t even mad?”

“ _Hell_ no, dude.” Ragh sits up and turns to face Fabian, “As far as I’m concerned, you guys killed the old me, and I don’t wanna think about that dickhead ever again. And cuzza that I’m… really happy. Even if I have bad days sometimes, I’m like… really, really happy.”

“Ragh that’s very poetic and sweet but we did _literally_ end your life for a good thirty seconds.”

“… Uh. Well. You gave it back, so it’s like… not a big deal.”

Fabian stares at him for what feels like forever, but is only a second or two.

A smile forms at the ends of his lips, and that smile brings a chuckle, and it gets louder, and soon enough he’s laughing so hard he’s barely able to breathe. And eventually it fades into a sweet, gentle chuckle. Fabian doesn’t even fully understand what he’s laughing at.

“Dude?” Ragh cocks an eyebrow with a twisting expression.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just…” Fabian glances toward him, “You’re… very simple. I like that a lot.”

Ragh makes a weird expression and crosses his arms while he glances away. He scratches the back of his head and mumbles something under his breath.

“Uh. What was that?”

“… I-I said, uh… You’re pretty dope too.”

Fabian blinks, then smiles, and sets his head on his pillow. (Or rather, one of Ragh’s pillows, he hasn’t stooped so low as to bring his own.) He makes a very slight but _very_ embarrassing noise when Ragh does the same.

Fabian is struck by how nice Ragh’s breathing sounds, deep and warm like his voice. He’s so caught up in that that he barely even notices they’re both looking at each other’s eyes. Ragh’s eyes, like a lake of black with an island of white in the center. He wonders what Ragh thinks about his eyes. (Or, uh, eye.)

Neither of them says a word.

There’s a very, very, very long, quiet moment.

Fabian feels like a bronze statue on a sunny day.

“Are you, uh… good?” He asks.

“Huh?” Ragh answers, “Uh… _yeah,_ yeah, I’m-- I’m like, fine dude, are… are _you_ good?”

“Uh, me? Me, I’m doing-- I’m fine, I’m fine thanks for asking,” he chuckles, “Um. Aside from that other stuff, obviously, are you doing alright? Wait I just asked that, uh-- I’m sorry, should I, uh?” Fabian gestures to the door.

“What? No, no, you’re like, _fine,_ dude, you’re fine! It’s fine!” Ragh is sitting up at this point, “I’m just, uh… I’m glad you’re here.”

Ragh sits there a second, looking away with his hands placed between each other.

“You…” Ragh opens his mouth to say something, but he croaks.

“… I…?”

“Naw, naw it’s-- it’s like… dumb.”

“I don’t hang out with you because you’re _smart,_ Ragh, I hang out with you because you’re _my guy._ Spit it out.” Probably not the best choice of words, but the tone he says them in conveys his _affection,_ so to speak.

Ragh seems to like it, though, since he smirks a little.

“You’re… _really,_ important to me, dude.” Ragh says. “And I’m fuckin’ _glad_ I’m your guy.”

Fabian can physically feel his face heat up. “ _That’s, uh._ That’s good! I’m, ah. Glad! Thank-- thank you, Ragh.”

“Aw, what? You’re not even gonna say it back?” Ragh jokes.

Fabian takes a deep breath and huffs, “You’re… also, very important to me, Ragh.”

Fabian can swear he sees Ragh do a double take.

“I… “ He mumbles, “Thanks, dude.”

Fabian doesn’t say anything back. He just smiles.

Somehow he can feel Ragh gets the idea.

_____________________

It’s about five days later and Fabian’s swinging his sword around in his room when he gets a call from Fig.

He doesn’t know why she’s calling him, because she never calls anyone. Fig, from Fabian’s experience, is a very ‘I’m going to text you sixteen times until I get a read receipt and only god has a snowball’s chance in Hell of stopping me’ kind of person, so her actually calling anyone has to be a pretty big deal, he figures.

So he picks up the phone.

“… Hello, Fig?”

“Fabian! Did you not get my texts? Actually whatever I don’t care-- you wanna go to Basrar’s? Like, right now?”

_“Right now?”_

“Oh, yeah, totally. Right now. Like _right_ _now_ right now.”

“Did-- did you invite anyone else?”

“Yeah! You just didn’t see cuz you’re busy with your _swords_ and your _shampoo_ and your _life_ or whatever.”

Fabian pouts. “I don’t talk about shampoo that much.”

“You bring your own shampoo when you come to the manor.”

“Your shampoo is terrible! I’m rich, and my hair is _delicate!_ I have different needs, why can’t I account for them?!”

“ _Why do you take so many showers at our house--_ you know what I’m not getting into this, get your ass to Basrar’s like, _right now_ right now.”

And then she hangs up.

_____________________

By this point Fabian has forgotten about what had made him so concerned the week before, which is unfortunate for him, because if he was just the slightest bit pettier he might have been able to see what was coming right for his head. Metaphorically.

In the dope corner booth with extra seating is Fig and Ayda, Gorgug and Zelda, as well as Kristen and Tracker.

And standing next to the table is Ragh.

Huh.

“Fabian!” Fig calls, “Glad to see you, but uh, this _dope corner booth_ doesn’t have enough room for like, eight whole people, so you and Ragh are gonna hafta sit in that booth right there. Like, together.”

Ayda squints, “Fig, I believe we could probably just scoot in a small amount--”

“ _No it’s impossible they have to sit in the same booth it’s the only way.”_ Fig puts a finger to her lips and does an incredibly obvious wink, and Ayda makes a bardically inspired face.

“Did I miss something?” Zelda frets.

“Uh… no, I don’t think so, I dunno what’s going on either.” Gorgug says, looking down at her.

“Whaaat?” Kristen coos with a catty smile on her face. “Nothing’s _going on,_ Ragh and Fabian just have to sit in a different booth. It’s _such_ a shame, but it can’t be helped. Nothing to be done!”

“Babe you are _such_ a bad liar,” Tracker laughs.

“Lying? No way, Kristen’s a _Cleric,_ she can’t lie. It’s not allowed.”

“But… Isn’t Tracker a Cleric too?” Gorgug says meekly.

“Gorgug _shush!_ ” Fig whispers so loud Fabian can still hear it.

“I’m under the impression that there’s some sort of plan going on and would very much like someone to explain it to me.” Ayda states, glancing around the room with her bird-like eyes. “Also, why are Ragh and Fabian here? I was under the impression that this was a ‘triple date.’”

“ _Shhh!!_ I’ll explain it later but-- _please. Please.”_ Fig whispers again, somehow even more surreptitiously than before.

Fabian is trying to piece together anything that’s happening when Ragh turns to him. (Fabian is also reminded of how good Ragh’s butt looks in jeans. Which is a lot. A lot good.)

“Uh… yo, dude, do you know what they’re talkin’ about?”

“I think that we… have to sit in the booth next to theirs. Alone. Together.”

“Huh. Whatever, if I get ice cream I’m down.” He shrugs with a chuckle. “Kinda wanted to sit in that _dope corner booth_ though.”

“Yeah that corner booth is really dope,” Fabian mumbles, and then raises his voice. “Whatever, we’ll sit in the other booth! It’s fine! Isn’t it, Ragh?” He turns to face him.

“Uh… yeah! Yeah, yeah it’s chill, we’ll go sit over there it’s like, no biggie, right?”

 _“No_ biggle! Exactly, Ragh!” And Fabian plops himself down in the kitschy red booth, then Ragh does the same. Fig quietly pumps her fist in the dope corner booth and Ayda says something that Fabian can’t quite hear.

Whatever’s happening, it definitely feels like something’s out of place. Like, obviously, but he’s getting ice cream, so it’s fine, he hasn’t gone over his calorie count for today so some ice cream should be a good way to let loose _…_ dirty bulking isn’t his style, though, that’s more of Ragh’s deal, so it’ll just be a today thing.

“… So.” Ragh says.

“So.” Fabian replies.

“ … The fuck was that about?”

“ _I know, right?!_ She’s been doing this all week-- she even said I talked about shampoo too much when she called me over here, which I _don’t,_ and last week she thought Aelwyn and I were still dating when we broke up _a month_ ago--”

Fabian is struck with the realization that Fabian has been regularly sleeping in Ragh’s room for the past three weeks. Ragh, who is an openly gay man.

Ragh who is an openly gay man that he is attracted to in a way which may be more obvious than he believed.

“… When we broke up a month ago.”

“Aw, that’s just not fuckin’ fair, dude! You’ve got _unique hair needs_ , man, you can bring whatever fuckin’ shampoo you want to _anywhere!_ In the _world,_ dude!” Ragh crosses his arms, making his t-shirt hug his chest a little more, because God has no mercy for Fabian Aramais Seacaster.

“ _That’s_ what you’re focusing on?”

Ragh coughs. “To be real I, uh, kinda forgot you two dated. Ever. She’s got me beat on that one.”

Fabian breathes a breath that says ‘yeah, you got me there.’

“Yeah, like, no offense dude, but straight people just kinda go like,” Ragh gestures in one ear, out the other, “Y’know?”

“Ahahaha, yeah, uh, I’m gonna go, place our orders, what do you want?”

Honestly, Fabian is just looking for an excuse to avoid that conversation.

\--

The next half-hour is just idle chatter over ice cream, and occasionally catching spots of the others’ conversation. Honestly, it’s very pleasant. Ragh is so earnest and kind that he’s honestly shell-shocked that he helped kill him a little over a year ago. That was a weird time for everyone involved.

“Hey, dude,” Ragh says, “Be real with me. Are you good?”

“Wh- what? What are you _talking_ about?”

“Be real, dude. You’ve been actin’ kinda weird for a little while. I didn’t wanna say anything, but like… I’m worried about you, bro. You’re our captain. We need you at your _best_ if we’re gonna beat those Mumple jackasses any time soon.”

“…”

Fabian thinks about the Prompocalypse, when he rode past Ragh on the Hangman and shouted a rousing cry, ‘The fight is on, Hoot Growl!’, and the look of utter defeat and self-loathing, and sadness in Ragh’s eyes. The eye that Dayne punched looked less hurt than the one Fabian looked into.

He thinks about the blanket over his shoulders after he fell in the cold ocean during spring break, and how utterly hopeless he’d felt under the weight of the name William Seacaster.

He thinks about when he believed the Hangman to be utterly destroyed, and how Ragh looked at him and said, earnest as ever, ‘ _Awww. Man._ That’s prolly-- you can prolly fix that.’

And how Ragh found kippers at the shrimp party, just for him, and how they’d cheered about it. How Ragh tenderly wiped Fabian’s tears away when he bit glass. He even snickers a little bit at how he asked Ragh what he was ‘packing’, or when Ragh thought there was going to be a three-way Owlbear MVP makeout sesh and started taking his shirt off.

There’s a weight in his stomach, but he takes a deep breath. In and out.

“… Can we get out of here first? You can take your ice cream but, uh, I’d just… prefer to talk about this in private, is all.”

Ragh nods, “Yeah, this place is kinda busy right now, and, y’know… some of the people are kinda nosy.”

He subtly gestures towards another booth on the opposite side of the restaurant. In it there’s a figure wearing a hat, sunglasses, and reading a newspaper, all of this over the frame of a very suspicious tiny green man. (Or rather, a Ball.)

Fabian squints as he gets out of the booth.

“… Good point.”

\--

“I’ve lived here pretty much my whole life, and I don’t think I’ve like… _ever_ been behind here.”

It’s not a particularly impressive place, it’s just the alley in between buildings behind Basrar’s, but it’s at least more private than the inside, and admittedly, Fabian hasn’t been here before either.

“… So… “ Ragh takes his time getting the words out, “You wanted to… tell me something?” He looks at Fabian with a combination of worry and expectancy. The drama of the situation in Fabian’s eyes is mildly downplayed by the fact that Ragh brought his ice cream with him. It has gummy bears in it.

“Yes, well, I. Ah.” It would be much easier to get this off his chest if he actually knew how to say it. “I want to… I’d… uh…“

“Don’t rush, dude, take your time.”

“Thanks.” Fabian mutters and takes another deep breath. He knows Ragh cares about him. That’s the thing. It’s not about what’s most likely to happen, it’s about what _could_ happen. The slight possibility of utter rejection is more terrifying than the certainty of it.

He doesn’t even know where to start. _‘’Sometimes I think about your smile in class and when I stop thinking about it class is over?’’ ‘’Kristen sent me a meme of a dog that reminded me of you and I looked at it for ten straight minutes?’’_

God, these are all so embarrassing. Maybe something a little less lovey-dovey, like _‘’I would very much like to put my face in between your pecs--’’_ okay that’s worse. That’s much worse. That is extremely much worse don’t even think about saying that.

He lets out a breath. Just start with the basics and then build up from that. That can’t be too hard.

(It definitely can, but he decides not to think about that.)

“Ragh, I care about you. _A lot._ I know I can be… _dramatic,_ sometimes but I’m being entirely sincere when I say that you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, and I consider you one of the, uh…” Fabian makes air quotes, “ _‘’The Bad Kids,’’_ or whatever they call us.”

He breathes, _“But.”_

“But?”

“But… I… care about you too much.”

Ragh just squints at Fabian like he has two heads.

“Not-- not like I can care about you _enough,_ I mean, you’re… you’re _my guy_ and all but it’s just…” Fabian gestures in a way that says _‘’I’m beating around the bush.’’_

Ragh moves his hand as if to say _‘’go on.’’_

Fabian groans, “I have fucking _feelings_ for you, Ragh! And It’s _really_ annoying because I thought I was _straight_ and into like, _lithe, sexy women_ or something but honestly I’m _genuinely worried_ by how badly I want you to hold me in your arms and fucking kiss me or _whatever._ You’re just so… _honest_ and _sweet_ and _endearing_ that I feel like I’m being boiled alive, but, uh, in a good way! In a good way and oh Christ that’s not at all what I wanted to say, uh, forget that bit it’s-- uh.”

“…”

“…” Fabian feels the overwhelming desire to climb into a hole and become a tree.

“… Dude, what?”

He puts his face in his hands. “I want to _kiss you._ A _lot.”_ He says, his posh demeanor fading.

Ragh stares at him with a strange expression on his face. Like a combination of confusion and anxiety. He puts his ice cream on a surface in the alley absentmindedly as he does.

“You’re… you aren’t fucking with me, right? Cuz, like, I’ll-- I’ll be super pissed if you’re fucking with me, so you _better_ not be.” The tone of his voice and the words he says are at odds with one another.

Fabian looks up, squinting. “What-- _what_? No, no I’m not _fucking with you,_ Ragh, just-- _what?_ ”

“Fuckin’… _look,_ okay it’s just like, sometimes people like… _pretend_ to be into you. As a joke. A-and I know that ‘cause they made a whole game about it and sometimes people’d play it in like fuckin’, uh, middle school or whatever and you,” Ragh’s expression softens.

“… You… you like… _like_ me?”

Fabian’s heart quickens. “That’s, ah… that’s what I said. Yes. I like you. Romantically.”

“Fuck, uh, sorry dude, yeah, I guess I hadn’t like… processed that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What-- why’re you apologizing dude? You didn’t say anything bad, don’t you even fuckin’ _think_ about beatin’ yourself up about this dude, you’re _allowed_ to have feelings! For, uh.” Ragh’s voice trails off, “For me.”

“Just because I’m allowed to have feelings doesn’t mean I should share them! I’m… I’m making you uncomfortable, aren’t I? I’m… I’m sorry, again, I- I should go,”

Ragh claps a hand over Fabian’s shoulder and looks into his eyes.

“ _Don’t fuckin’ talk like that, dude._ You _never_ disappoint me dude, and if you do, I’ll fuckin’ _say it._ No more of this self-loathing bullshit, alright? I’m your guy, you’re my man, and it’s gonna stay that way, no matter what, you got that?”

He cracks a smile, “… Thanks. Thank you… so much, Ragh.”

“No problem.”

Ragh pulls him into a bro-hug full of manly back pats, and all Fabian can think of is how _strong_ and _warm_ he feels.

They sit in silence for another few moments.

“… I like you too.” His voice is quiet. Fragile.

Fabian blinks. “… _WHAT?”_

“I forgot to say that part and I just realized so I figured it’s like, better late than never and it was kinda awkward but, uh, yeah, I’m… also… into you. Like, really into you. A lot.”

“ _Why didn’t you say that five minutes ago?!”_

“Hey, _last time_ I told the captain of the bloodrush team I was in love with him he socked me so fuckin’ hard he had to get bandages dude! And then he died! I was nervous!”

“I’m sorry I yelled like that but _fucking christ Ragh_ I was just… I… you’re… you like me too?”

“Uh. Yeah.” Ragh mumbles. “I’ve sorta… had a crush on you since the end of junior year?”

“ _A year ago?!”_

“Yeah! A year ago!”

“ _And you didn’t tell me?!”_

“I thought I made it pretty obvious!!”

The phrase ‘Owlbear MVP three-way makeout session flashes in Fabian’s head, along with an image of Ragh’s midriff.

“Oh.”

“… Yeah.”

“… Does that mean you have a crush on Gorgug too?”

“I mean… a little, yeah, but like, he and Zelda are a thing and I don’t wanna break them up so I can get with him, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me back like you… do. Holy shit you like me back. You like me back?”

“Wait, you’re right, holy shit? We both…”

Neither of them say anything for a time after that, locked in their own heads while they look each other up down.

Ragh is the first to speak up. “Do you wanna like… date?”

“Oh _God_ yes please. Of course! Absolutely!”

“Uh, fuck yeah, dope, that like-- that slaps, yeah.” Ragh chuckles with a dopey smile.

“Similar question; do you want to kiss?”

“Shit, uh, yeah, let’s… let’s fuckin’ _do it,_ man! Let’s go! _Hoot, growl!_ ”

Fabian can feel his heart beat at his ribcage like a jackhammer as they move closer together, and Fabian puts his hands around his torso, one on the small of Ragh’s back. Fabian revels in how sturdy Ragh is-- how he can’t quite get his arms all the way around him. Like an anchor. Fabian feels Ragh’s hands on his shoulders. He tastes like ice cream and gummy bears and mouth, probably because he just put ice cream and gummy bears in his mouth, but the taste doesn’t matter because what does is that it’s Ragh.

The kiss ends early, because neither of them can stop smiling long enough to keep their lips puckered.

Ragh chuckles, “‘zat what kippers taste like?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Through the euphoria it almost feels anticlimactic, if that makes any sense. He likes Ragh. Ragh likes him. They have a very nice time. Fabian has read a lot of books, and that’s usually the sign of a rushed happy ending. Maybe some kind of mimic bursting out of his chest and killing everyone in Elmville would be more climactic. Or have Ragh stab him in the back and reveal himself as an assassin. Or have Fabian tragically die tomorrow in some freak pirate ship accident. That’d make so much more sense to him.

But there’s something very freeing in the simplicity of this. Whatever this is.

The Seacaster family is dramatic. Everyone whose path they cross knows that, because the air around them exudes drama and _adventure._ They don’t get simple. They get burned houses, pierced hearts and archdevils. Seacasters burn bright and die young and Fabian has accepted that for most of his (fittingly) short life. That’s how it’s always been.

But Fabian is his own man now, even his father knows that. His _dead pirate devil father_ _,_ mind you. Maybe Fabian Aramais Seacaster’s life can be a little bit simpler.

Obviously not _that_ simple, considering he’s saved the world at least once already and is currently attending Aguefort Adventuring Academy, but simple enough to be a _wild divergence_ from whatever the hell the legacy of William Seacaster is.

And because he’s himself, and not anyone else, he gets to enjoy the simple-minded joy of placing his head in the soft spot between Ragh’s shoulder and his chest as he holds him ever-so-gently. Breathing quietly together as he gives him the occasional kiss on the forehead.

And not much else happens for a little while.

\--

Their first date ends up being at Basrar’s fifteen minutes later, because Ragh’s ice cream got attacked by flies and he wanted another one. Fabian paid, obviously, because he’s rich, and rich people pay for their partners’ shit.

Fig overhears them talking and celebrates so loud Fabian’s pretty sure Strongtower Luxury Apartments can hear her, so clearly she has some explaining to do.

“Well, like…“ She starts, “Ragh and Fabian were always napping together at our house, so I kinda figured they were dating, but when I invited him to the triple date he didn’t have any idea what I was talking about, and it was like… _oh, crap,_ there’s something goin’ on here.”

She kicks her combat boots up on the table. “So I talked to Riz about it--”

“Why are your feet on the table? People are eating. That’s unsanitary, please stop.” Ayda states.

Fig coughs and meekly puts them back under the table. “ _So,_ I talked to Riz about it, and like, he didn’t _say_ anything, but I figured out pretty quick that there were some sparks there, so I figured if I made them share a table… they’d like, talk it out, and it’d be great! And I got Kristen in on it because. Y’know.” Fig flops her wrist.

“Why are you so obsessed with wingmanning people?” Fabian asks, “You tried to wingman your own father once. You tried to get your own father with The Ball’s mother, do you remember that? I remember that. He started talking about his foot fungus _immediately_ after why-- why is this a pattern?”

Zelda cocks an eyebrow, “Did that, uh… happen?”

“Fig kind of has a track record of romantic war crimes.” Tracker responds.

“I dunno if it’s _war crimes,_ per se,” Kristen starts, “I’d call it more, like, biological warfare than anything.”

“You-- _biological warfare is a war crime,_ Kristen!” Fabian says.

Ragh scratches the back of his head, “I’m still kinda confused about that foot fungus thing?”

Kristen responds, “Fig’s elf dad started talking about his foot fungus at the dinner table and I think it counted as flirting for him.”

Fabian breathes in. “That is the _least_ of her problems-- did all of you forget the time she disguised herself as a doctor and made out with a full-grown adult man for like, months on end? It’s like-- that wasn’t even one time! She did it _again_ with some random police officer!”

“That’s, like… wow.” Zelda says.

“No, no, no, like, you guys, that’s in the _past_ now! Now I’ve got Ayda and she’s like, _way_ better than Dr. Asha and that police officer guy put together! I turned over a new leaf!”

“Does she… know about any of that?” Tracker gives her a look.

“I’ve been here the whole time.” Ayda says, “I don’t know why you’re all assuming I don’t know about any of this. Fig has told me about her previous romantic encounters and ‘wing-manning’ in sufficient detail… The foot fungus thing is new though. I don’t know what that’s about.”

“Okay we’re getting off track-- what was The Ball’s involvement in this? He’s clearly in on it, he’s been sitting over there with a newspaper for the entire time-- where did he go.”

An almost nasally voice speaks up from below him, “You pretty clearly had feelings for Ragh that you didn’t wanna acknowledge, so I… wanted to be… y’know, a good friend, and I figured, hey, maybe they’ll talk it out. And you did! So, y’know. Score one for Riz.”

“… How long have you been here?”

“I’m a rogue, Fabian.”

“Waitwaitwaitwait, I thought you had this like, weird complex about other people being in relationships? You mentioned that after spring break, I think.” Kristen squints.

Riz tilts his head, “Have you… not been working on the stuff the forest showed you?”

“I was dead! I died! And then I turned the Nightmare King back into a deity! I was becoming a _saint_ , I didn’t have time to check out the _psychoanalytical illusions_ everyone _else_ was seeing, okay?”

“Dude, I’m gonna be real, I still have no fuckin’ idea what happened there, but like… it sucked. _Hard.”_ Ragh says.

That catches Fig's attention and her eyes widen a little bit, “Wait, why are we talking about this, you two are dating! That’s like, crazy!”

Fabian blinks. “Oh. I almost forgot.”

“Dude-- what? How?!” Ragh barks out a laugh.

“I don’t _know,_ Ragh! Fig is really, really good at getting everyone off topic!” Fabian huffs, “Either way… Even if I’m not exactly pleased about you two wingmanning me without my knowledge, I’ll admit that your… howdoIputthisuh… _initiative_ did make… _this,_ happen much faster than it otherwise would have. Which I’m grateful for, since I’m already sort of annoyed by how long it took considering how long Ragh’s, uh…”

Kristen tents her hands, “How long Ragh’s…?” Tracker lightly smacks her, so lightly in fact that it looks more like she just dropped her fingers on her face.

 _“How long Ragh’s had feelings for me,_ Kristen, Jesus Christ!”

Ragh crosses his arms, shrugging in a sort of embarrassed way that Fabian finds incredibly endearing. “Yeah dude, I’ve… sorta had a kinda crush on him for like… a year. Like, ever since he started being the captain. It’s like… wild, I guess.”

“Okay, now that this is out of the way, can you all _please_ stop butting into our romantic business?” Fabian says, exasperated.

“Absolutely, I don’t even know what dating is and both of you are straight as boards.” Fig shoots them both a finger gun.

“You’re joking?” Ayda asks, and Fig nods.

“Totally!” Kristen’s mouth forms a bright smile, “You guys deserve some privacy, but… like… it was kinda clear this wasn’t gonna happen for _years_ if no one did anything.”

Riz nods at that, and Fabian’s brows knot.

“… Was I the last fucking person to know about _my own crush.”_

Gorgug turns to Fabian, “That’s surprising?”

The table chuckles.

“What-- what’d I say?” Gorgug asks, and Zelda whispers something in his ear. Gorgug nods with a small mutter of acknowledgement.

“To be fair,” Ragh says, “I think _I_ was actually the last one. Since, like, you just told me… Still kind of haven’t, uh, _processed it,_ but… y’know.”

“That’s worse. You do know that’s worse, right?” Fabian’s smile betrays the affection in his words.

“Okay, _either way,_ Ragh and I are gonna get some ice cream to go, and then we’re gonna go to my house and do _romantic things_ and it’s gonna be _private_ and we’re going to tell all of you _vultures_ absolutely _none of it._ ”

“Fuck yeah.” Ragh says, putting his hand on Fabian’s shoulder. It’s a very strong hand. Fabian glances at him and smiles with butterflies in his stomach.

“Fuck yeah!” Fig cackles.

The people in the _dope corner booth_ (and The Ball) say goodbye to them as they leave.

_____________________

Like Ragh envisions, they take things slow for a while, and decide to keep most of their relationship private. Fabian’s pretty sure most of the bloodrush team doesn’t even know he’s into guys, let alone Ragh specifically. That’s fine, though, he’ll probably tell them soon enough. They’re more than fine with Ragh being on the team since he’s kind of an MVP, so they should be cool with Fabian being a similar case.

They’ve kissed some, obviously, but honestly not much else has changed since they started dating. They still take naps together a _lot,_ they still talk over ice cream, they still do chest bumps and bro-fists and other dumb jock shit. Honestly the only thing that’s different is that they kiss and hold hands. And sometimes when they have classes together Fabian rests his head on Ragh’s shoulder while he pretends to listen to the lecture, since, y’know, he already knows ninety percent of whatever the teacher’s talking about.

Other school related things; Fabian decides to join the LGBT student union. Partly because he wants to figure his sexuality out sooner rather than later, and partly because Ragh is one of the co-founders and he wants to spend more time with him whenever possible. He only accomplishes one of those goals, since he still has no idea what label to give himself.

Fortunately for him it’s only a tossup between _‘’Gay Man’’_ and _‘’Bisexual Man’’_ , which is apparently a smaller amount of questioning than a lot of people experience. This concerns him immensely, because this amount is already _excruciating._

At first he was all the way towards _‘’Bisexual’’_ because Aelwyn Abernant is incredibly hot, but after hearing about the term _‘’compulsive heterosexuality’’_ from Kristen he finds it worryingly relatable. Now his experience with sexuality is a metronome ticking between _‘’yes girls and guys are hot’_ ’ and _‘’maybe I’m only drawn towards women for superficial reasons and only guys are hot’’_ in between every interaction he has.

With anyone. Ever.

This is annoying, and Fabian makes the very brave decision to ignore it entirely until it comes up again.

Despite his immense differences from his father, Fabian Aramais Seacaster is just that-- a Seacaster. And Seacasters are _incredible_ at ignoring their problems, as Fabian has learned, and will continue to learn again and again over the course of his life.

And that’s alright.

There’s still a loose end to be tied up, though.

The one that started everything, even.

_____________________

It’s a chilly night and Fabian is _running the fucking field._

The rematch between Aguefort and Mumple has been highly anticipated by practically everyone who cares about sports at either school, and no one cares about sports more than Ragh and Fabian.

So they’re ready. And they’re going to make sure everyone else on their team is ready.

The score reads twenty-six to twenty-eight, Aguefort to Mumple, and the clock has a _very, very low_ amount of time on it. Fabian, Ragh, and Gorgug are obviously the MVPs of Aguefort, and most of the points on Mumple’s side have been either scored by a few key players, or helped along by those same players. There’s enough of them to try and focus on, but somehow one always manages to slip out of sight and score a point or two.

The lights above shine brightly onto the bloodrush field, making everything but the sky bright as day. Fabian’s cleats stick into the dewy grass of a newborn night as he charges with the ball, the repeating small thump of his feet on the earth being the only rhythm aside from his pounding heartbeat in the chaos of high school bloodrush.

Fabian more than makes up for it with, well, everything else about him, but he has one major, major weakness when it comes to bloodrush;

depth perception.

The ability to perceive depth is the only ability he has that’s _worsened_ after becoming team captain. Understandably so, considering the fact that _he has one eye now,_ but one that is definitely a weakness.

Fabian is reminded of this weakness when one of those key players he’s been so keen on having people watch appears. Right in front of him.

This is very bad for a variety of reasons.

The sensation Fabian feels isn’t unlike when time slowed to a grinding halt during Ostentatia Wallace’s house party, when the rain moved so slowly it was almost like they were rolling down the window of a car. Except it’s not real, and everything’s so, so fast, and he only has a fraction of a second to win, or else they’ll lose to Mumple _again._ _Mumple. Again._ Fabian cannot even comprehend how embarrassing that sentence is.

He doesn’t have the luxury of thought during this moment.

So he scans the crowd with his working eye and searches for his Deus Ex Machina. Something that could save him, and his pride, and his reputation, and Ragh’s heart.

And there he is.

In the perfect place, at the perfect time, right where Fabian can see him.

A big, bulky half-orc guy with a stubbly chin and baggy eyes and a boyish, handsome face. His guy, in prime position to receive.

Ragh.

Fucking.

Barkrock.

There’s something deep inside of Fabian that says to him that he’ll never get used to how good he is. And that that’s an amazing, amazing thing.

Fabian chucks the ball quick and hard and _twisting_ like a chakram, a tornado going straight for where Ragh’s bound to be-- and he’s there, catching it in his practiced, passionate way. In the back of Fabian’s mind there’s an image of an owl landing on a perch and folding its wings.

And then there’s nothing left for him to do; both literally and figuratively it’s all out of his hands, now it’s all up to that guy. His guy.

The guy was farther away than he thought, apparently, because when he gets tackled he feels it in his knees and he falls forward, hitting his jaw on the ground and picking his head up as soon as he can to watch Ragh.

For his size and bulk Ragh is surprisingly dextrous, he’s only lacking in two areas; quick thinking and running stamina. Fabian knows that if Ragh slows down too much, the game is over. And they’ll lose.

There’s only two possible ways they can win this, and that’s with a field goal or a touchdown. Fabian doubts a field goal is feasible given how many people are in front of Ragh, but a touchdown would be _hard,_ and even Fabian feels the odds begin to crush him like a ship in thundering tides.

He watches with bated breath. His heartbeat hasn’t slowed down even a little and there’s a weight like a storm in his stomach.

The chatter of the crowd is like white noise, static yet fluid.

Ragh’s back gets farther away, blending into the sea of players. Until he’s gone, and a moment of something comparable to quiet happens. Nothing but the static of the crowd.

…

…

…

Two green hands go up, and the crowd grows into a deafening beast, and that’s when Fabian scrambles to his feet and rips his helmet off, sprinting towards Ragh as fast as he can.

They won.

The Owlbears won.

Ragh is surrounded by Owlbears shouting at the top of their lungs, and Ragh is too, clearly having thrown his helmet somewhere in the heat of the moment-- and when he sees Fabian he has a look of pure, unadulterated _pride_ on his face. He pushes himself out from the crowd and holds his arms out like he’s expecting a hug, and that’s not entirely wrong to predict.

Fabian wraps his arms around Ragh’s waist and picks him up, _twirling_ him around. Not for very long, considering Ragh’s bulk, but it’s the only thing that occurs to him.

“ _You fucking did it!”_ He yells, “You’re my _guy,_ Ragh!! _Fuck yes!_ I- I’m so, I just have to--”

Fabian pushes the back of Ragh’s head in towards his and plants a tender, passionate kiss on his lips, and he can physically feel Ragh melt into it.

Trails of tears stain Ragh’s cheeks as he looks at Fabian like he was a night sky. The feelings of the moment rack his lungs with quiet sobs, barely even moving otherwise.

“I _love_ you _,_ dude.” Ragh whispers fragilely. The crowd is so loud Fabian can barely hear him.

He feels his eyes glass. “I love you too.”

Fabian lovingly wipes Ragh’s tears away and kisses him, tasting a tiny bit of blood in Ragh’s mouth-- he must have worked so, so hard for this. He knows it. Because no one cares about bloodrush more than Ragh does. He’ll make sure he’s okay later, but he knows Ragh well enough to know he’s not going to talk about it until things wind down a little.

He hugs Ragh tight and puts his head in his soft, warm chest.

And even though everything’s so loud, it’s almost quiet for a moment.

Then Jem Peppercorn makes a really loud motorboating noise and laughs Peppercorn-ly. Another Owlbear who’s just a straight up skeleton (like legitimately undead) yells “DID YOU USE TONGUE?” And the team bursts into cheers.

“Huh,” Ragh mumbles, “This is acceptance.”

“I don’t know what I expected.” Fabian says, reluctantly smiling.

Gorgug puts a hand on Ragh’s shoulder and says “Hey.”

“Uh, hey?”

“… Love wins.”

“… Fuck yeah.” Ragh wipes his eyes, smiling.

Fabian puts his face in his hands and giggles despite his best efforts.

“SEACASTER IF YOU DIDN’T USE TONGUE I’M GONNA STEAL HIS JUICY ASS FROM YOU.”

“You don’t even have fucking _lips_ , Delmirev! And don’t call my boyfriend’s ass juicy! _I_ get to do that, not you!”

“Fuckin’ libertarian! He’s _our_ boyfriend, you one-percent bitch!” calls out Blake Chillwhistle, who is a gnome.

“I hate bloodrush.” Fabian says.

Ragh laughs, and runs over to the others, and Fabian follows.

This is the happiest he’s ever been.

_____________________

Fabian is standing at his locker and grabbing his backpack from it without much of an expression on his face.

“Yo, Fabian, dude!”

He instantly recognizes the voice and turns over to Ragh, smiling slightly.

Ragh smiles, “Thanks for waitin’ for me dude, Porter had to talk to me after class and it took a few minutes, so like, sorry, that’s my bad.”

“No worries,” Fabian says, slipping his hand into Ragh’s, “What’d he say?”

“Just that my grades have been goin’ up pretty quick. Prolly because I’ve been like… really, _really_ fuckin’ pumped. Just, like, about everything.”

“Fuck yeah.” Fabian rests his head on Ragh’s shoulder, “You deserve it, man.”

“Thanks.” Ragh smiles.

They walk down the stairs and through the halls as Fabian wonders what would have been different if he didn’t talk to him that one afternoon. How that one conversation changed the course of his life for the better to _this_ extent. He wonders what would be happening now if he didn’t.

That scares him.

But it doesn’t matter.

Because right now, he’s walking hand-in-hand with an incredible man that he loves with all his heart and he knows that Ragh feels the same way about him, and that’s everything that matters. The future doesn’t matter, because the feelings they’re experiencing right now are just as real as any potential future that could come tomorrow, or next year.

As they walk out the doors, and climb onto the Hangman, Fabian asks to be taken to his house.

They’re gonna snuggle the _fuck_ out of each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my twitter @notoriousmasc and my tumblr is @raghsimp if you'd like 2 follow me


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